The door shuts behind Tsukishima, the click loud enough in the silent apartment that Yamaguchi startles and looks up.
"Hey, Tsukki!" Yamaguchi says brightly. He's surrounded by books and notes and on the verge of a nervous breakdown so he should be miserable, but he's never really miserable around Tsukishima. That's half the reason they got the apartment in Tokyo. They don't even go to the same school, but when Tsukishima suggested living together anyway, Yamaguchi jumped at the chance. Not even his university workload is that bad when he gets to see Tsukki at the end of the night.
"Hey." Tsukishima moves some of Yamaguchi's stuff to the coffee table to make room on the couch. He leaves everything in even piles — he's always so neat and careful with everything. Meticulous. Yamaguchi loves that word. "Hey," he says again as he sits on the couch, and he sounds weird. "I think I had sex with someone."
Yamaguchi ignores the elevator shaft fall of his stomach as he raises his eyebrows. "You think?" he asks. "I feel like that's the kind of thing you should know. Not that I have a lot of experience with it."
None, his brain helpfully supplies. Thanks, brain.
"Okay, then I know I had sex with someone," Tsukishima says.
Yamaguchi fights the urge to sigh pitifully or scream or picture what Tsukishima was apparently doing while Yamaguchi revised for exams. He can imagine Tsukishima's side of it easily enough, since he started thinking about that back in high school, but trying to fill-in-the-blank with anyone other than him isn't something he wants. But Tsukishima so rarely wants to talk about anything personal; he's like obligated to do the best friend thing here. Yamaguchi rubs his palms against his jeans, trying to focus on the rough shush shush of the fabric against his skin.
"Who's the lucky girl?" Yamaguchi asks eventually, staring at his knees.
Tsukishima snorts. "Girl? Try again."
At that, Yamaguchi can't help the way his head whips around to look at Tsukishima. He's never really thought — hoped, yes, but never let himself really believe it for a minute. And he guesses that was the right thing to do because now that he knows for sure, he can feel the seed of possibility burrow deep and begin to take root right there and then. Which would be fine – great even! – only Tsukki is already sleeping with someone else.
Fucking someone else, thinks his brain, which wow. So helpful today.
"Is that a problem?" Tsukishima says and shifts uncomfortably, which is when Yamaguchi finally realizes he's been staring for probably five-hundred hours and not saying anything.
Yamaguchi nearly falls over with the way he's shaking his head and waving his hands and saying, "No, no, no, Tsukki, it's fine. Of course it's fine, I just didn't know." The you never told me goes unsaid.
"Good." Tsukishima pushes up his glasses, and looks away a little, possibly because Yamaguchi's still staring at him. Yamaguchi can see the little blush that's spreading high up on his cheeks; it's so cute that Yamaguchi wants to die. "It was someone in one of my classes."
"Do you like him?" Yamaguchi asks. He says this quietly, but he's only quiet because if he speaks up, he's afraid his voice might shake and then he'll shatter, like when his favorite coffee mug fell out of the cabinet and smashed onto the counter below.
"I don't even know him," Tsukishima says. "He asked me out after class, then asked me back to his apartment. He bought me a donut," he adds, and then laughs oddly, a little disbelieving, like he can barely believe his own life.
"What kind?" Yamaguchi asks.
"The donut. What kind was it?"
Tsukishima shrugs. "Chocolate glazed. It wasn't what I wanted."
"But you ate it anyway?"
"Sure." Tsukishima shrugs again. "It was still pretty good."
Yamaguchi has a million questions: What's his name? Are you going to do it again? Is he better-looking than me? Did you kiss a lot? Do you like kissing, Tsukki? Would you go home with anyone who asked? What would you do if I asked?
But what he says is: "Are you sore?"
Yamaguchi winces because some days he can't believe what comes out of his mouth, but he's also just curious. So, so curious and jealous. So jealous that he feels like it's going to eat him alive. Maybe Tsukishima would eat him first, if some stranger bought Yamaguchi for him after class.
Tsukishima laughs, surprised. Usually, Yamaguchi loves that, loves catching Tsukishima off-guard, getting any big reaction out of him because it happens so rarely. But right now, he's not sure. "I'm not," he says. "But I don't know about the other guy."
Yamaguchi's brain completely shuts down at that. He stares straight ahead and settles back against the couch cushions.
"Anyway," Tsukishima says, and stands again, using Yamaguchi's knee to help him push up, "I'm going to go take a shower."
Probably some people would be surprised to learn that Tsukishima keeps playing volleyball in university. Yamaguchi's not, but other people – people who don't pay attention – might be. Even Hinata and Kageyama hadn't been surprised when Tsukishima told them his plans, halfway through their third year at Karasuno.
Yamaguchi keeps playing, too. Potentially, their schools could play each other one day, and then they'll face each other on opposite sides of the court in an official match for the first time in their lives. Yamaguchi wonders what it would be like having Tsukishima's face in his face, only the net separating them.
A whistle blows and a volleyball bounces off Yamaguchi's head and lands on the court. He shakes his head, surprised.
"Yamaguchi-kun, are you even with us today?" His coach is a nice person, but even nice people have their limits. Yamaguchi knows this better than most.
"Sorry," Yamaguchi says, bowing his head a little. "I'll do better."
He does, a little, after that, but he's still mostly moving from muscle memory. Tsukishima's newfound sexual liberation is still at the forefront of his mind, driving him to distraction. He wonders if he should do the same, approach someone cute in one of his classes and take them back to the apartment, maybe time things so Yamaguchi's getting loud just around the time Tsukishima usually comes home.
Yamaguchi shakes his head. Maybe not exactly what he wants but still good is okay for Tsukishima, but it's not for Yamaguchi. That's not a slight against Tsukki; he guesses they're just different that way. And he wouldn't be doing it for the right reasons, even if they weren't.
When he comes home that night, Tsukishima's already there. He's sitting on the couch, watching something on TV that looks like it has a lot of aliens and explosions, his long legs propped up on their coffee table. Yamaguchi remembers his surprise the first time he saw Tsukishima do that, a couple of days after they moved in together. But Tsukishima said his mother wouldn't let him do it at home, and he'd always wanted to and now that they were on their own, shouldn't they be trying new things? Yamaguchi doesn't mind, especially when Tsukishima looks like that when he does it. A knot of want ties up in Yamaguchi's stomach and pulls.
"Come sit," Tsukishima says, patting the spot next to him. And Yamaguchi does, even though he's tired after practice and has research he needs to do for one of his classes. "We can watch something else, if you want."
"No, this is okay," Yamaguchi says. They sit close together, Tsukki's leg pressed up against Yamaguchi's, his warmth soaking through Yamaguchi's jeans. Yamaguchi hesitates for a moment, but rests his head against Tsukishima's shoulder anyway.
Tsukishima sighs when he does it. It's small, but it's there, loud enough for Yamaguchi to catch even when an alien's head explodes with a boom and flings yellow goo against the screen.
They watch like that for a while, and it's so nice. After a bit, Yamaguchi moves his hand from his own lap to rest on Tsukishima's thigh. He doesn't do anything else, just leaves it there, just to see what happens, just to know what Tsukki feels like under his palm, but Tsukishima looks down at it long enough that he misses the rogue band of misfit soldiers defeating the alien queen.
If Yamaguchi ever buys Tsukishima a donut, he'll make sure it's a flavor he likes.
"I want to throw a party," Tsukishima says one morning, out of the blue. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking coffee and wearing only thin striped pajama bottoms. Before, Yamaguchi had been very interested in staring down at his plate and nothing else, but that makes Yamaguchi look up.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Yamaguchi asks.
"I feel fine."
"But." Yamaguchi chooses his words carefully. "You hate parties."
"True," Tsukishima says. "But maybe I won't hate my own party."
Yamaguchi has his doubts, but he shrugs. "Sure, let's throw a party." It might be fun. Yamaguchi doesn't hate parties, after all.
"Great," Tsukishima says. "I'm going to invite some people from school. You can invite whoever you like."
Yamaguchi could invite some people from his classes and the volleyball team. Yachi-san and Shimuzu-san live close enough that they might want to stop by, and he'll send messages to everyone who went to Karasuno, just in case they want to take the train down from Miyagi. He figures the novelty of Tsukishima Kei throwing a party has to hold some interest for them.
"And if there are any girls you like, you should invite them, too," Tsukishima says, so casually that it's not casual at all.
Yamaguchi stares at Tsukishima for one beat, two, three. "I don't like a girl," he says slowly. "Not right now."
And Tsukishima falters. He doesn't falter like a normal person, just holds his coffee mug to his lips for a second too long without drinking, but Yamaguchi catches it. "A guy you like, then," Tsukishima says, voice calm and even as ever. "Or whatever."
The guy Yamaguchi likes is already invited.
So many people are in their apartment and Tsukishima put on a playlist filled with his songs with the heaviest bass lines, so it's loud and crowded and also loud. Yamaguchi hopes the neighbors don't mind too much, but then again, their complex is primarily students anyway. In fact, he recognizes a couple of his neighbors in his living room.
Half of Yamaguchi's friends from class are there, half of his volleyball team, even half of Karasuno. Hinata is saving space by riding piggyback on Kageyama's back; he gestures wildly to Yachi while Kageyama tries to avoid being elbowed in the head. Nishinoya is hitting it off with a tiny girl from Yamaguchi's chemistry class, looking surprised by his success even as he leans into her. There are lots of people Yamaguchi doesn't know, too, so hopefully Tsukishima knows them. He wonders if any of them is Donut Guy, but pushes the thought away.
"Beer's in your kitchen!" Tanaka says joyfully as he greets Yamaguchi, slapping him on the back. "Other stuff, too!"
"Yay?" Yamaguchi replies. He makes his way there, pushing through the crowd, saying hi to anyone who wants his attention as he goes. There are fewer people in the kitchen, but Tsukishima's one of them. He's talking to Kozume and Kuroo who used to go to Nekoma and now go to school with Tsukki. He looks amazing, naturally, the bright blue of his sweater making his eyes stand out gold, even behind his glasses. He clutches a cup in his hand and though he doesn't look particularly happy, he doesn't look unhappy either, which means he's in a good mood. Yamaguchi makes his way over and Tsukishima pushes his cup into Yamaguchi's hand.
"Taste this," Tsukishima says. "It's terrible."
Yamaguchi laughs. "What a ringing endorsement," he says, but he takes a drink. Tsukishima's mouth had just been where Yamaguchi's is; it's a pathetic thought and he knows it, but it's there and he going to lean into it. Yamaguchi screws up his eyes as he swallows. "Hoo." The drink is sweet and strong and burns his throat as it goes down.
"Right?" Tsukishima says. "Let's get some more."
Yamaguchi and Tsukishima mostly spend their party together, which makes them awful hosts, but Yamaguchi is happy. They both get buzzed on terrible sweet drinks, and Tsukishima smiles more than usual, which means Yamaguchi gets to see his smile twice in one night. It means Tsukishima is happy, too. They get jammed up together in the hallway outside their bathroom, facing each other, so close that their toes line up in a row of Yamaguchi, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima.
"Tsukki, can I ask you a question?" Yamaguchi asks, tilting his chin up so he can speak directly into Tsukishima's ear. Yamaguchi doesn't have to lean up to talk to almost anyone else. He's always liked it, Tsukishima being taller than him.
"You just did," Tsukishima points out.
Yamaguchi narrows his eyes. "Smartass."
"The smartest part about me, probably."
"One of your nicest, too," Yamaguchi says, before he can stop himself.
Tsukishima raises his eyebrows. "What's your question?"
"Oh." Yamaguchi struggles to remember, now that the subject of Tsukishima's ass has come up, but scrunches up his forehead and forces himself to think. "Oh! Why did you want to throw a party anyway?"
Tsukishima looks thoughtful, considering, and he seems almost shy before he answers. "My brother said that college is for new experiences," he finally says. "He said you'd be having them, and I should try my hardest to have them, too, just in case..." He trails off.
"Just in case what?" Yamaguchi urges.
"Just in case you get tired of me for being so boring." Tsukishima shrugs.
"Akiteru said that?"
Tsukishima purses his lips. "Not exactly," he admits. "I might have – I might have read between the lines."
"Tsukki, you're terrible at that," Yamaguchi says and laughs. So much of Tsukishima's recent behavior suddenly makes sense. He grabs Tsukishima's bicep and squeezes, gets distracted, and then remembers where he is again. "I will never, ever, ever get tired of you."
"Never ever, huh?"
Yamaguchi feels up Tsukishima's arm some more and, bravely, drags his palm to rest against his chest. "Never," he insists. "You think I put up with you brooding and pulling away all through middle school to get tired of you now? Now, when you're so…"
"So great. So hard-working. So you," Yamaguchi finishes. "Are the new experiences good?"
"Mostly," Tsukishima says. Someone bumps into him from behind, pushing him even closer to Yamaguchi. He doesn't move away after. "I like putting my feet on the coffee table."
Yamaguchi cracks up. "Is that all?"
Tsukishima looks to the side, watching people push by them in the hallway. He's blushing hard. "The guy. I wouldn't have – I don't regret it, it really was good. I liked it." Yamaguchi wants to scowl but holds back, and Tsukishima adds, "But before I would have gone about it a different way." He sighs to himself. "Though going about it a different way wasn't really working out for me."
Yamaguchi grabs Tsukishima's chin and makes him look his way again. Tsukishima's eyes register surprise for just a moment, the alcohol slowing his reactions just enough that Yamaguchi really gets to drink them in before they slip away again. "Tsukki, I –" His words get caught in his throat. "Can I ask you another question?" He drops his hand to his side.
"You just did again," Tsukishima says softly, so softly that Yamaguchi only understands the words because he's watching Tsukishima's mouth. His hand brushes against Yamaguchi's, and just the small movement is enough to make Yamaguchi shiver.
"Tsukki," Yamaguchi scolds.
Tsukishima swallows, and nods. "Go ahead."
"Is, uh – is that guy you went out with here? The one from class?" The one who got to kiss you, touch you, the one who isn't me?
"No," Tsukishima says. "He's not my friend. I barely know him."
And Yamaguchi, whose head is floaty and whose filter is flimsy now, narrows his eyes and says, "Good."
Tsukishima swallows at that, and Yamaguchi watches as his throat bobs up and down. Then Tsukishima grabs the front of Yamaguchi's shirt, crumpling up the fabric in his fist. "Tadashi," he says, and Yamaguchi's eyes widen. Tsukishima almost never calls him that.
The last time he'd heard it had been when Karasuno won Interhigh last year and the team was in a happy pile on the court. Tsukishima had been trapped beneath Yamaguchi because Yamaguchi had tackled him immediately, looking for any socially acceptable reason to do so, and Tsukishima was sweaty and shaking and exhausted as he breathed Yamaguchi's given name and put his palm on Yamaguchi's cheek. Yamaguchi had played that moment over and over thousands of times since.
That had been intense. This is intense.
"Tadashi," Tsukishima says again, "did you invite the guy you like here?"
Yamaguchi shakes his head. He shakes it, and shakes it, and shakes it. For a smart guy, Tsukishima sure can be dumb. But then Yamaguchi gets a glimpse of Tsukishima's face and realizes he's not being dumb. He's just cautious. Hopeful. He knows that expression because he's seen it on his own face a lot, in glimpses in storefront windows or in mirrors whenever Tsukishima's around. "I didn't need to invite him. He lives here."
"Ah," Tsukishima says and his expression changes and he looks – god, Yamaguchi doesn't even have the words to describe how he looks right then.
"Did you really fuck that guy just because he asked?" Yamaguchi blurts out.
Tsukishima inhales sharply at Yamaguchi's words. "So many questions."
"Actually, never mind. It doesn't even matter," Yamaguchi says. He takes a deep breath and works up his nerve, the same way he does when he steps on the court to serve. "What I really want to know is, what would you do if I–"
"He looks like you," Tsukishima interrupts.
Yamaguchi blinks. "What?"
"The guy. From class." Tsukishima reaches up and runs his thumb over Yamaguchi's cheek, right over his freckles. "He looks like you, but he's not you. That's why I – not just because he asked."
"Oh," Yamaguchi says. His whole world tilts and rights itself again as he works everything out, and he breaks out into a grin because Tsukki likes him. Tsukki likes him, and he likes Tsukki, and now they both know, and holy shit, he's so glad for new experiences. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Which. Is a decent point.
"Tsukki. Kei," Yamaguchi says because he doesn't want to talk about the guy who looks like him but isn't him anymore, "kiss me."
Tsukishima turns pink again; he's blushed more in this conversation than Yamaguchi can ever remember, but he ducks his head and presses his mouth to Yamaguchi's, and his lips are so soft, even softer than Yamaguchi imagined. Tsukishima laces his fingers with Yamaguchi's and squeezes, making Yamaguchi's eyes flutter shut and his mouth open on a sigh, and he feels the tip of Tsukishima's tongue against his.
A little sound escapes from the back of Yamaguchi's throat and the kiss gets warmer, wetter as Tsukishima pushes his tongue further into his mouth, and it's so, so good that Yamaguchi forgets about all of the people in his apartment who are probably watching them. Tsukki's as good at this as he is at everything else, and Yamaguchi just wants so much. When they break apart, Yamaguchi is breathless and Tsukishima doesn't seem like he's doing much better.
"You should come to my room," Yamaguchi says.
Tsukishima nods. He leans in to press his mouth to Yamaguchi's again, which is when Tanaka and Nishinoya start cheering and yelling "FINALLY!" next to them in the hallway.
"I will," Tsukishima says. "I want to. But not until these assholes leave."
Yamaguchi grins. "Just remember – this was all your idea."
It's after three by the time the apartment's empty again. Tanaka had tried camping out on their couch, complaining that he'd traveled all that way, but Tsukishima isn't having any of it.
"Go sleep on the street," Tsukishima says, but Yamaguchi is nicer about it and asks Shimizu and Yachi if they're willing to have a few extra guests for the night. Given the choice between Kiyoko-san and Tsukishima, Tanaka goes easily.
Truthfully, Yamaguchi also hasn't been feeling particularly generous, but he's more tactful than Tsukishima. In Yamaguchi's head, they're scales always trying to achieve balance and mostly succeeding, but he guesses it's good that sometimes things swing wildly out of place. Once they put things back together, they're always better, stronger, and Yamaguchi feels like that just happened again.
"It's late," Tsukishima says, once they're finally alone. He steps into Yamaguchi's space and winds his arms around his middle, pushing his hands underneath Yamaguchi's shirt. "Are you tired?"
Yamaguchi is. He's tired, the apartment's a mess, he's coming down from his buzz, and the front of his hair is plastered to his forehead, the result of dried sweat after being so pressed in by so many people for so long. But he's also so overwhelmed with feeling as Tsukishima's big hands press against his skin and move up his spine. He never knows what to do after he gets something he's wanted for a long time, and this – well, there's nothing else that he's ever wanted so much or for so long.
Tsukishima strokes down Yamaguchi's back one more time, then pulls his hands out from under Yamaguchi's shirt. He bends down and presses a kiss right next to Yamaguchi's ear. "It's okay if you want to sleep," he says. "I'll still be here in the morning."
"I'm tired," Yamaguchi says, "but I don't want to sleep." He looks up and reaches out, pressing his thumb against Tsukishima's bottom lip. "Do you?" Yamaguchi drags his thumb back and forth absently.
Tsukishima shudders. "Not even a little," he breathes, and sucks Yamaguchi's thumb into his mouth.
Yamaguchi is frozen, wide-eyed, watching Tsukishima's mouth wrapped around his thumb. Tsukishima reaches for Yamaguchi's wrist and tugs his thumb away, only to suck on each of his fingers in turn. His thoughts devolve into a repeating circle of warm, wet, and Tsukki.
Tsukishima kisses each of Yamaguchi's fingertips and says, "You said I should come to your room." He looks at Yamaguchi from underneath his long eyelashes. "That was a good idea."
"I have great ideas," says Yamaguchi faintly. He tugs Tsukishima to his room and closes the door. Tsukishima sits on the edge of Yamaguchi's bed, which he's done on every bed Yamaguchi's ever had – the twin bed he had as a little kid, the bigger one he got once the growth spurts kept hitting again and again, and now the one his parents got him as a housewarming gift. But Tsukishima had never spread himself out against Yamaguchi's pillows or urged him to straddle his lap before. He'd never tucked his hand inside the neck of Yamaguchi's collar to rub his fingers against his collarbone. He'd never pulled Yamaguchi down to press their mouths together again and again, holding on to Yamaguchi's middle while his hips twitched up.
"Oh god," Yamaguchi mutters against Tsukishima's mouth. All of his exhaustion is gone, replaced by the feeling of Tsukishima's tongue in his mouth. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, he's just twisting up the material of his bedspread between his fingers, but then Tsukishima moves his hands from Yamaguchi's hips and throws them back on either side of his head, and Yamaguchi just knows that he wants to hold him down by his wrists. So he does. And he rocks his hips against Tsukishima, who gasps and rolls against him.
"Yamaguchi," Tsukishima says roughly, struggling a little under Yamaguchi's hands, but not enough to throw him off, even though he probably could.
"No." Yamaguchi shakes his head. "Don't call me that right now."
Tsukishima's eyes go wide. "Tadashi," he says, and no wonder he hardly ever says Yamaguchi's name that way because he says it like it's air, like it's oxygen, like he needs it to live. No one else says his name like that, and it gives everything away. Yamaguchi feels stupid for not knowing; he bets Tsukishima feels stupid for not knowing, too. "I want—" He cuts himself off, and then looks angry for doing it, like he's embarrassed about wanting something from Yamaguchi.
Doesn't he get it yet? Yamaguchi would give him anything.
"Tell me," Yamaguchi urges. He dips his head to suck a line of wet kisses up Tsukishima's jaw, thinking maybe if they're not looking directly at each other, it'll be easier to say. Tsukishima gasps as Yamaguchi traces his tongue around the shell of Tsukishima's ear. "Come on, Tsukki. Tell me." He bites down on Tsukishima's earlobe.
"Shit," Tsukishima moans. "I want – I want you to fuck me. You inside me. I think about it all the time. I think about it when you're in the next room."
Yamaguchi jerks forward automatically, rubbing his dick against Tsukishima's through their clothes and making him gasp. His brain has no idea how to process this, what to do, just the thought of Tsukishima tight around him makes him want to come in his pants. "Uh," he says eloquently.
"We don't have to," Tsukishima says quickly. "Other stuff is good, too, whatever you want, please just don't stop, okay?"
"No," Yamaguchi says. "I want to. Of course I want to." He laughs and sits up to pull his shirt over his head, urging Tsukishima up so he can pull his off, too. "I've just never – I mean, you know this about me. I would have told you, if I'd ever – you know I would have told you."
Tsukishima rolls Yamaguchi onto his back and flicks open the button on Yamaguchi's jeans, and pulls down the zipper. "I'm not exactly drowning in experience over here, either," he says. "We'll practice it till we get it right. That's what we do when we want to get better at something, right?"
Yamaguchi laughs. "Are you comparing us having sex to volleyball?"
Tsukishima narrows his eyes. "No. I'm saying we'll figure it out." Yamaguchi lifts up to help get his jeans off; once he's naked, Tsukishima sighs. "God, look at you." He shakes his head. "I've been an idiot." Then he wraps his hand around Yamaguchi's dick and strokes. "How long?" he asks.
"What?" Yamaguchi says, struggling to focus. He moans when Tsukishima rubs his thumb over the head.
"How long could I have been doing this?"
"Oh," Yamaguchi says. "A long time. But we've still got lots of time, Tsukki. We can make it up."
Tsukishima nods and leans down to press his open mouth to Yamaguchi's, kissing him warm and wet, the slide of their tongues against each other matching the rhythm of Tsukishima's hand as he jacks Yamaguchi faster and faster.
Yamaguchi gasps and arches and twists and says, "Fuck, Kei, I'm going to –" against Tsukishima's mouth.
"Come on," Tsukishima says, and then, "Come for me, Tadashi."
Like Yamaguchi can resist that. He throws his head back and gasps, and feels the warmth in his belly pool up just before he's shaking and coming hot over Tsukishima's hand and his stomach. He blinks sleepily at Tsukishima after, a dopey little smile threatening to take over his whole face.
"Tsukki," he whines, "why did you do that? I thought you wanted me to –" Yamaguchi sits up and presses his hand to the front of Tsukishima's pants. He's so hard that Yamaguchi can trace the outline of his dick right through the fabric, and Yamaguchi can't get over that he did that to Tsukishima. No one else, just him. "I really wanted to fuck you, you know."
Tsukishima adjusts his glasses, just before he pulls them off and puts them on Yamaguchi's bedside table. "Oh, you will," he says, standing to take off the rest of his clothes. "Just watch; I'm going to work you up all over again now." He gets back on the bed and pulls Yamaguchi in between his thighs, which has to be the best place Yamaguchi's ever been. Tsukishima smiles up at Yamaguchi. Without his glasses, it almost seems innocent. Almost, until he says, "Will you suck my cock first?"
Yamaguchi's going to buy him a million donuts.
It turns out Yamaguchi loves sucking dick, or maybe he just loves the reactions he gets when his mouth is stretched around Tsukishima. He doesn't know if he does a particularly good job, but Tsukishima moans and praises him and digs his fingers into Yamaguchi's hair and apologizes so much when he accidentally pushes his dick in a little too deep. The absurdity of hearing Tsukishima gasp, "Sorry, Yamaguchi," while halfway down his throat isn't lost on him.
And then there's the feeling of fucking Tsukishima and how imperfect and perfect it is all at once. There's the way Tsukki has to run to his room to get condoms because Yamaguchi doesn't have any, and the raw interest in his eyes when Yamaguchi gets his half-empty tube of lubricant out from under his bed. Yamaguchi makes sure to tell Tsukishima how often he’d jerked off while thinking of this exact moment, as he slides his fingers inside Tsukishima's ass. And they have to stop a few times while they try to fuck, Tsukishima breathing, "wait, wait," and then "go ahead," with every little push Yamaguchi makes. And Tsukishima had been right: he does work Yamaguchi up all over again, and then some, and he only lasts a few minutes once they really get going. But even if that's a little embarrassing, it's all right, too. Like he'd said, they have lots of time for new experiences now.
After, Yamaguchi wants to eat or smoke or, who knows, maybe play five sets of volleyball and run a few laps while shouting and waking the whole neighborhood, but mostly he wants to sleep curled up in Tsukishima's arms.
So he does.
"Tsukki, Tsukki," Yamaguchi chants after he wakes up the next day. He feels sore and dehydrated and needs a shower like he can't believe, but he also feels great.
"Mmph," Tsukishima says, muffled into Yamaguchi's pillows. "What time is it?"
Yamaguchi peers at his clock. "Two in the afternoon. I have a great idea."
"I hope it's never moving from your bed ever again."
"Nooo," Yamaguchi says, and grins. He rubs his hands up and down Tsukishima's bare back. "It's morning – okay, no, day sex, followed by linner."
"Linner. The meal between lunch and dinner."
Tsukishima grunts. "Bring me linner in bed."
Yamaguchi laughs and crawls out of bed. "Or you can join me in the shower, and then go out to eat like a normal person. Come on, I'll buy you a donut."
"I want cake," Tsukishima says. But he's flipped over onto his back to watch Yamaguchi. The afternoon sun glints off of him, and he practically glows in the light. Which is fine because Yamaguchi's definitely glowing, too.
"Cake, then." Yamaguchi pauses in the doorway. "So are you coming?"
Tsukishima groans, but he pushes himself into a sitting position and stands. "I'd better be," he grumbles as he catches Yamaguchi around the waist.
"Twice," Yamaguchi promises.
It's a new day, and there's so much out there to experience.